


Stuffing Soundwave

by Artemis_Dreamer



Series: Squishy MegOp [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Belly Rubs, Dessert & Sweets, Drabble, Fat Robots, Fluff, Food/Feeding Kink, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post War, Weight Gain, belly stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: “Enjoyment: causes complications.” Soundwave pronounced, gesturing to his chassis.It was an embarrassing admission, but there was no denying that he had been sampling far too liberally from his own baking as of late. The slightest bit of weight had begun to accumulate on his chassis, a small belly on his otherwise slender frame.---In which Soundwave is adorable, Optimus is a bad influence, and Megatron gives an order that he'll probably end up regretting.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TomorrowsHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomorrowsHero/gifts).



> WARNING: This is a work of fetish fiction, involving belly stuffing, unhealthy eating, and weight gain.
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

Soundwave, above all else, was loyal to Lord Megatron. As such, he took it upon himself to bake delicious fuels for his master, making every effort to sate the warlord’s voracious hunger. It had become a common occurrence for Soundwave to visit Megatron’s quarters, delivering such treats in person. Call it a guilty pleasure - the masked mech enjoyed hearing his master’s praise firsthand.

Praise which he was currently receiving.

“You never disappoint me, Soundwave.” Megatron acknowledged, accepting a stack of treat-filled containers from his Third. Energon rushed to the spymaster’s faceplates as he acknowledged the generous compliment, and he was yet again grateful for the visor that hid his blush.

“Stay a while,” the warlord offered, gesturing to the sofa. Prime was already seated there, and judging by the assortment of empty containers scattered nearby, both mechs had been indulging heavily.

“Soundwave: politely declines. Fuel: intended for Lord Megatron.” The masked mech replied, mechanical and emotionless as always.

“Every cook deserves to enjoy their creations,” the warlord retorted, his tone taking on a hint of impatience. His third was often stubborn when it came to accepting the rewards that he was due.

“Enjoyment: causes complications.” Soundwave pronounced, gesturing to his chassis. 

It was an embarrassing admission, but there was no denying that he had been sampling far too liberally from his own baking as of late. The slightest bit of weight had begun to accumulate on his chassis, a small belly on his otherwise slender frame.

Megatron arched an optic ridge with incredulous surprise, but it was the Prime that spoke. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Soundwave,” he reassured the masked mech. “If you wish to indulge, then do so. Nomech will judge your frame.”

A rumble of hunger emanated from Soundwave’s tanks, a reminder that he hadn’t fueled adequately since breakfast. “Soundwave: will stay. Soundwave: requires fuel.”

With a victorious grin on his faceplates, Megatron pulled Soundwave down onto the couch between himself and the Prime. The masked mech promptly found himself sandwiched comfortably between the massive stomachs of his leaders, the soft rolls of their plating enveloping his own angular frame.

“Are you comfortable enough to retract your visor?” Optimus inquired, realising that his unfamiliar presence might actually prevent Soundwave from being able to fuel at all. Shaking his helm, the mech in question instead extended one of his many tentacles. The tip flared open to reveal an intake suitable for fuel.

Optimus nodded with understanding, and Megatron, impatient as ever, immediately offered up a cookie to that intake. A chocolate chip cookie – a rich, chewy confection made by Soundwave himself.

The masked mech willingly accepted the fuel, silently noting the irony of the situation. He also took note of his master’s chassis. It was larger and more swollen than the Prime’s, an impressive testament to the warlord’s insatiable appetite. 

Noticing Soundwave’s fascination, Megatron guided the mech’s spindly servos to rest on his stomach, nodding his approval. He often saw a similarly entranced expression on the faceplates of the Prime, and knew that his Third felt that same overwhelming desire to touch and tease his plating.

A rhythm was quickly established. Soundwave caressed his master’s chassis between bites of cookie, revelling in the softness of the plating – softness which could be largely attributed to his own efforts. Optimus, however, was not about to be forgotten. His own blunt-fingered servos began to stroke Soundwave’s own chassis, lavishing his paunch with attention.

“Query: purpose.” The masked mech intoned, surprised to be receiving such treatment from the Prime himself. 

"This will prevent any pain," Optimus explained, a caring smile on his faceplates as he cupped the spymaster's small belly in his servos.

Pain? Soundwave was surprised at the notion. Exactly how much were his leaders expecting him to consume?

Megatron seemed to read Soundwave's mind even without the gift of telepathy. "As much as you desire," the warlord purred, engine rumbling with pleasure beneath his Third's exploratory servos. "Indulge, Soundwave. This is your reward.”

The mech in question promptly surrendered to his master’s wishes and to his own hunger, allowing himself to fuel without restraint. Cookie after delicious cookie disappeared into his intake, the masked mech thoroughly appreciating the taste of the treats - merely having a small bite or two while he baked was nothing compared to the pleasure of true indulgence.

In a surprisingly short time, Soundwave found himself completely stuffed, politely shaking his helm when Lord Megatron offered him yet another baked treat. His paunch was now firm and swollen, bulging out over his thighs. It seemed that Optimus had been correct - he felt no pain at all, despite the incredible fullness of his tanks.

The masked mech allowed himself to relax between his leaders, both huge mechs now caressing his slender frame with surprising care and affection. Before he could restrain himself, a chirp of appreciation escaped his vocalizer.

An amused smirk crossed Megatron’s lipplates. His loyal Third, it seemed, had not anticipated just how pleasurable over-fuelling would be. The warlord immediately spoke, knowing that Soundwave would otherwise berate himself unnecessarily for such a vocal slip-up.

“You are to indulge yourself whenever you see fit.” His tone was simultaneously commanding and reassuring. “Consider it an order.”

Optimus raised an optic ridge upon hearing those words, and couldn’t help but wonder if Megatron would regret his phrasing. After all, Soundwave had always been loyal to a fault.

“Soundwave: acknowledges.” The spymaster remained outwardly emotionless, but his processor was lost in a blissful haze. The feelings of sating his hunger, of being stuffed full, of having his chassis massaged, were truly amazing. He suddenly understood why these activities gave his master such pleasure.

However, he had other duties to attend to.

“Soundwave: must return to work. Surveillance network: requires monitoring.” Feeling oddly impetuous, the masked mech continued to transmit. “Query: Soundwave may fuel with Lord Megatron tomorrow?” Yes, he definitely wanted to do this again.

As his master vocalized an affirmative, Soundwave made to rise from the sofa, only to discover that his limbs would not obey. The weight of his chassis was too great to permit locomotion. In short, he was too full to move.

Megatron instantly understood, and chuckled with amusement. The spymaster’s hidden faceplates began to heat with shame, but the warlord’s next words belied that embarrassment. “You are unused to over-fuelling. I expect you to stay and rest.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

Soundwave was tempted to object, but could already feel his processor slipping into recharge, lulled by the four gentle servos still caressing his stomach. There was no berth more comfortable than the sofa on which he sat, squished between the plush frames of his massive leaders.

Above the spymaster’s helm, Megatron and Optimus exchanged a knowing glance - Soundwave’s frame was certain to become much, much bigger.

**Author's Note:**

> TomorrowsHero, I hope this satisfies your request. It's not Bulkhead, but it's at least somemech other than Megatron or Prime.
> 
> So, this is the final part of Squishy MegOp, but it's the first part of The Squishy Apocalypse. That is to say, there will be more fat robot fiction, only featuring mechs that are not Optimus or Megatron.
> 
> I am definitely taking requests for this new series - I'm good with anything in a TF: Prime, TF: Animated, or G1 setting. I've already got a couple planned out thanks to suggestions from Meep, but more is always better.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated!


End file.
